Priorities

So one of the things about being an adult is having your priorities straight, right? Like: you know that you're "focussing on your career right now" or that you are "paying off your loans" or that you are "family-centric".

I really need to work that shit out. I need a mission statement. Because I either try to do nothing, or everything. Which means that absolutely nothing gets done well, which bugs me because I hate doing things badly, which then leads me to quit everything. Which in turn leads to all kinds of awkwardness (filed under: poverty, self-esteem problems, the scorn of peers and family).

Why do I do this? Because I'm really not a jerk. Au contraire, mon ami - I am the most self-destructive of all things: the people pleaser.

Was chatting with a friend, who is mighty successful, about how I feel really bad about how I'm being taken advantage of at work, which led to a conversation about how she manages her staff the other day.

Friend: Yeah, so the secret to managing people? You have to see what drives them.

Me: Well, you know, money's not really my main driving point, so I guess that makes me hard to manage...

Friend (cocks eyebrow, looks at me with indulgent mockery): So my one assistant... She's driven by wanting people to like her. So all I have to do to get her to do stuff? Pretend like I'm mad and don't like her until she does it.

Me: WHAT? Managers do that?!?! THAT'S ME!!! THAT'S SICK!

Friend: Yupp. Works though.

(By the way, I still think it's mean.)

People not liking me is WAY worse than kryptonite. It paralyses all of my critical faculties. It's part of what makes me seem like such a slacker - if you never say no, you end up doing things really badly. Which is why I need a list of priorities: I need things to hang onto when it comes to facing the wrath of my peers (and superiors. eeeeek.)

Glamorizing underachievement is the crack of our generation

Friend of mine said this to me a while ago, and it sprung back into mind last night when chatting about arrested development. So true.

Kurt Cobain, you have a lot to answer for - not just those plaid shirts. (I still love you though)

Shrewish Conversations

Had chat with friend yesterday about our plans to pay off student loans and credit card debt. Possibly the most adult conversation I've ever had. Massive "impostor warning" issued among the real adults!

Paying rent ON TIME today. SWEET!

Also, I really wish someone had told me how much happier and more productive I am when I CAN pay said rent...

Putting things away

I suck at putting things away. Both practically, and emotionally. I guess I'm hoping that by learning to do the first, I'll somehow trick my brain, my heart, or whichever organ houses emotions to do the same.

Plus, it's just nicer being in a space not covered in clutter and mess.

So: I went to the laundromat today DESPITE the fact that my friend who was meant to come this weekend postponed. Why would that matter? Because normally, I would totally mask the slight whiff of socks with Febreeze, and not bother to do my laundry until emergency time. Emergency time, for those who are unfamiliar with the concept, sees me dressed in hawaiian shirts and going commando in a nod to hygiene, rather than to sassy sexiness or a fear of visible panty line. (It bothers me that VPL has a recognisable acronym. I mean, there are other crimes of clothing that are so much more offensive. Starting with sock-bite. That's WAY more upsetting - victims of malicious socks leaving gnaw-marks on your ankles, unite!). Anyway. It wasn't emergency time, my friend wasn't coming, so shame over my housekeeping wasn't impending, and i STILL did my laundry.

Gangster.

The laundromat was a mixed bag. Expensive as heck - it may turn out to cost me almost the same to drop off my laundry there - and kind of skanky. Still, cute boy. Weighing up cute boy versus nasty baby roaches in terms of divine omens in support of my doing laundry? Tough call. Still, I vanquished one of said roaches. Humanity 1, Roaches 0. Always good to know that you're taking one for the team.

Plus, I actually put all my clean, FOLDED things in drawers when I got back. Instead of leaving them in their bags. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. Massive Adult points for La Fitz.

Also headed over to co-op and stocked up on food for weekend. Impressivo. Returned to make myself dinner. have recently been reviewing my eating choices. I've been a vegetarian since I was 16. Meat just hasn't been something I eat. It has long since stopped being something I think about. It's just what I do, because I made an ethical decision about it when I was a kid.

This, of course, makes no sense. I think the human body completely regenerates its cells ever 7 to 8 years. Thus, I have, on a very basic physical level, become a different person TWICE since I made the decision to stop eating meat. But I still stick to it, because 'it's what I do". Well, I'm re-examining that. There are lots of things about vegetarianism which make sense to me still - but I want to explore. And be healthy. And change old, dull patterns. Putting them away.

Banally, these epic changes start with eating turkey and chicken...

Allow me to inform you that turkey bacon is the gateway meat, as much as marijuana is the gateway drug. Sweet lord, that stuff is good! Had never tried it before, but will revisit. SOON.

Oh, and in the finest Operation Adulthood move to date, I then did all my dishes. Even though my roommate is out of town.

And put the dishes away.

Insoles

Just bought, and am now wearing, my first ever insole-foot-support thingies.

Comfy as heck.

Glad no-one can see them, though. I mean, I have barely passed the stage where I would only wear Birks or nothing at all, and now my aching, ancient limbs need special, Dr Scholl-y care.... What's up with that?

When did Operation Adulthood become Operation Geriatric?!

Anxiety

Just looked at writing workshop websites (oh, sweet alliteration! I don't care that you're untrendy and uncouth - you always make me feel clever, like the first couple of questions in game shows), and it gave me massive pangs of anxiety.

This is either because it is what I want to do and I am filled with dread of failure and shortcomings and of actually diving back into what i failed to do before OR it's a divine sign (from my stomach where, incidentally, all my- limited!- wisdom lies) that I should not bother with the writing.

Note - two of my most embarrassing failures to date are the two novels I have started and gotten about a third way into. Embarrassing, because I very rarely admit to myself that I really want something, and I very rarely commit to doing anything. I did, with one of em, and I got nowhere. I barely wrote, and I now lug moleskin upon moleskin of notes around with me when I move, a ballast of both failure and hope for improvement.

At least writing about Operation Adulthood is going smoothly. Small mercies!

Focusing, or Limiting?

For a while, I've been wondering "What took me so long?" about the whole adulthood gig. One of the reasons, I think, is because I've long been smitten by the incredible choices available to me. Should I live in Asia, or North America, or Europe? (Or somewhere else - I was seriously planning to move to Cuba in spring of 2010. So much so, that I was actually googling apartments. Which, incidentally, is more foresight than I've had for most of my moves). Should I be a writer, an academic, a marketeer, a professional horseback rider or a music promoter or ... something else?

All of this was great when it was either daydreams - as when I was a child - or when I felt I had unlimited time and absolutely no sense of consequences. (That would be... until about six months ago. Oops.). And I've come to a realize a couple of things about this approach - that I don't tend to do much at all, because I either can't choose or I stop doing things when they get difficult, or I end up having surface knowledge of lots of things and very little specialised knowledge. (The latter is known as "being a journalist". Apart from the fact that journalists actually have to write lots. Which I quit doing a couple of years ago.).

But what I like about that approach, that fluid, liquidy approach to what I do and where I live and who I am, is that it means I still believe that daydreams and desires are totally valid. And I want to be that - both for myself, and for other people.

Earlier today, I was talking to a friend of mine, who is normally one of those great and supportive and interesting people. Love this girl. But I've noticed something about her. She's NOT supportive of her friends when it comes to trying to break into the entertainment industry. I've heard her recount multiple reasons for why they shouldn't do it, why they're not good enough, talented enough, driven enough, too old, unwilling to train, all sorts of totally legitimate reasons...

But they're not the REAL reason why she doesn't think they can do things. She thinks they can't because SHE doesn't. Not "can't" - "doesn't". She's a deeply talented musician herself, but has so much anxiety built up around making music that she can barely pick up her guitar. So she seems to have decided that 'this is it' - the business she operates is going really well, even though she's not super happy doing it, and her private life is going from strength to strength. But she's disappointed - maybe she doesn't know it, but I do.

I'm not judging her for this; maybe she'll work it out, maybe she'll be happy doing what she does, maybe she's right and her other friends will either man up and go on with what they want to do, or maybe they legitimately aren't good enough - but I realised that that's not what I want for myself. I want to focus without limiting; myself, and others. I want to be someone who has those daydreams and encourages them in others, while actually making them happen - so my adult world is more like daydreams, rather than daydreams being lost to the "adult" world.